Chapter 21
Her gaze flashed red as she stopped before him, and he instantly reached out for her, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
How dare Elijah show his face tonight—of all nights—at a ball thrown in her sister’s honor?
After everything he’d done—or not done, as was the case—to waltz into Lord Chastain’s home and pretend he had any sort of tender for her.
Ridgefeld could not be so foolish as to think she would believe anything he said.
Sam flinched at the contact before stiffening to resist his hold.
Her arms hung loosely at her sides as she waited for him to release her.
The urge to accept his warmth, to melt into his embrace and give in to her desires for him was strong.
No matter what delusions spun through her mind, she always returned to the bottom line: he’d left her.
Without a backwards glance, without a note of parting, without a final word.
Elijah Watson, Lord Ridgefeld, had elicited emotions from her Sam never dreamed possible. He’d stood by and listened to her family’s darkest secrets, comforted her during a difficult time, and pledged to be at her side until she departed for London.
Instead, he’d proven that every man was as she’d feared: the same as her father and Lord Proctor. Their intentions were to lie, cheat, and steal until they gained exactly what they desired. Elijah was no different. His actions had proven it to be fact.
He released her and stepped back. With that movement fled the smell of him: sandalwood and musk. As if he’d spent his day hard at work in a stable.
She needs must remind herself she was in the right and that Elijah had been in the wrong.
“Miss Samantha,” he stammered. “I was preparing to look for you.”
“Is that so, my lord?” Sam crossed her arms when he made to step toward her once more and leveled her stare on him. “Whatever for?”
“Yes, it—“
“Ironic, because I searched for you at Hollybrooke the morn of my sister’s wedding.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered you’d left…
without so much as a parting word to me.
” She would not express how much it had injured her that day.
His abandoning her had cut deeper than any wound her stranger of a father could inflict upon her.
“Envision my feebleminded appearance as I argued with my brother over the misconception. You, Lord Ridgefeld, had made a promise to me. There was no way you would turn tail and run.”
“That was not the way of things.” Elijah held his arms out to her, begging her with his eyes to step into his embrace, but Sam only took a step back, increasing the distance between them. “I have much to explain.”
“Unfortunately, I have no wish to listen.” Hear his excuses, his rationalization, his need to explain away the injury he’d caused her. “And even less desire to be standing here with you.”
“I do not understand…” His eyes widened. “Sam, I would do you no harm, ever. You must believe me. It was not my idea to depart Hollybrooke. I would have stayed if it were an option; however, it was not. The decision was not mine to make.”
Sam focused on her anger on him, allowing his words to wash over her, unheard. She’d believed him once and had been made a fool. That would not happen again.
“Miss Samantha,” he continued. “Let us return to the ballroom. I will fetch you a drink. We can stroll about the terrace and talk.”
“No.” One word, but it tore at her heart to utter it. She needed him to hear her and walk away…before her resolve crumbled.
“Then tomorrow. I will call on you. We can spend the afternoon at Hyde Park.”
“That will not be happening.”
His eyes went vacant, and he wavered where he stood. “I have journeyed all this way.”
“To deliver your family treasures to the museum.”
“But that is not the only reason,” he rushed. “I could have arranged the transport without seeing to it myself.”
“Your comings and goings are of little concern to me,” she muttered. It would be wise to turn and return to the ballroom, pray he didn’t follow her, hope he didn’t continue to spout his words of defense. “I bid you good eve, my lord.”
He grasped her arm but quickly loosened his hold and settled his hand lightly on her forearm.
His touch didn’t prevent her from departing; it was his eyes that kept her frozen in place.
They held the softness she was used to seeing, but there was something more there.
Something reaching farther than the storm clouds that waited just below the surface.
It was exactly what she’d noted in him that first day: something within struggling to break free of the sorrow that shrouded him.
Sam shook her head to clear her thoughts and push down her body’s treacherous betrayal.
“Please, Sam,” he whispered. “Allow me to escort you back to the ballroom, and I will explain everything. But you must know that I care for you deeply.”
She shuddered to think how he would have treated her if he didn’t care for her deeply.
Her heartbeat spiked as her thoughts turned even more treacherous; his arms around her, his lips pressed to her throat, and the hard length of his arousal unmistakably pressed against her, creating a longing, a desire she’d only dreamed of in recent weeks.
“I will remain in London…fulfill my promise to you,” he said, running his hand through his hair, disheveling his locks. “I will stay as long as you think it will take for me to satisfy our previous bargain. Or any new arrangement that suits.”
She wanted to believe he spoke the truth, longed for him to stay in London, but instead she asked, “What leads you to believe I am in need of your company now that I’ve returned home to London?”
She raised a brow as he remained silent, forcing him to speak.
“I, well—” he started before pausing to take a deep breath. “If you are spoken for or find yourself enamored with another gentleman, I will do the honorable thing and step aside.”
“I did not say anything about another gentleman.” Could Elijah know of Lord Proctor, have seen their intimate embrace? Certainly not. “It is only…”
“What?” he prodded. “Sam, I will do anything to prove that my devotion to you is pure.”
Sam tapped her chin as she thought over his proposal.
There was the fiasco with Proctor to consider.
The man thought her in search of a benefactor.
It was appalling and insulting. And she could not forget Gunther’s continued interest in her.
As one of Lord Cartwright’s friends, it would be hard to dissuade Marce and Garrett if Gunther sought a true courtship.
The man was titled, wealthy, and would provide for Sam in a manner befitting her needs.
“You swear you will not leave again?” Hurriedly she added, “—until I say your promise is fulfilled?”
“Of course, you have my word.” The tension seeped from his shoulders, thinking he’d won their battle. There was much the man need learn. “Do you accept?”
Why did she sense that more than his stay in London hinged on her answer? “I have not decided as yet.” She would not give in so readily…and maybe… “However, I fear our original agreement will no longer suit.”
He frowned, and his brow furrowed. It was the first instance of unease she’d noted since she’d confronted him. If he suspected she was assessing how to use his offer to her greatest advantage, he didn’t speak to that fact.
“Then I will bid you a pleasant evening,” he said with a curt bow. “Do accept my apologies for interrupting you.”
He made to walk past her without so much as offering his arm to escort her back to the ball. Yet, that was exactly what she’d wanted him to do only a moment before.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
Two could play at this game. She turned swiftly, setting her arm on his sleeve, falling into step beside him.
“May I propose a new agreement?” she asked, not daring to glance up at him.
As much as Sam would have relished allowing him to walk away, making him to feel a small measure of the pain she’d felt, she admitted to herself that she needed him.
No…she wanted him at her side. It was preposterous to contemplate.
He’d abandoned her, but only after burrowing into her heart.
He’d taken a piece of her with him. It was only proper she return the favor.
His steps faltered. “Certainly. I owe you at least the opportunity to set new terms.”
Sam couldn’t help but wonder why he cared if she pushed him away. He’d left her, not the other way around. What did this change in him signify? Why seek her out at all?
It made little sense to her.
However, if she could lead Proctor and Gunther to believe she was spoken for, then it would serve her purpose.
“London is far different than our time in Derbyshire. Society standards dictate something far different than the blasé nature of country house parties. There are appearances to uphold. Places to be seen. People to charm. Is this something you are willing to navigate with me?”
They approached the ballroom, and with it their freedom to speak freely.
“You have my attention, Miss Samantha.” He halted before they joined the other guests.
A sense of victory filled her. It would not be difficult to ensure that Elijah fell head over heels in love with her. She was stunning, charming, and a diamond of the first water. Only then would she do to him what he’d done to her.
Sam risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye.
She inhaled sharply. Certainly, his smirk did not mean he thought he held the cards.